


Summer of '82

by orphan_account



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Gay Panic, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 11:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: If someone were to ask Will Byers to pinpoint the moment he realized he liked boys, he would have to say the summer of 1982.





	Summer of '82

**Author's Note:**

> As a gay, I believe Will deserves to also have that "MOMENT" of extreme gay panic. (You know the moment.) So, here it is. Enjoy it. Enjoy the panic.  
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr at ryomouwrites

If someone were to ask Will Byers to pinpoint the moment he realized he liked boys, he would have to say the summer of 1982, just four months after he turned eleven. Up until they found his not-body there while he was trapped in the Upside Down, the party would go swimming at the quarry when the days got just a little too hot and humid. They always made sure to go to the far side, where they wouldn’t have to worry about any hollering adults or wandering bullies—it was just them, inseparable friends until the very end.

It had been early July, on a day that was unusually warm, and Dustin had been the one to suggest it. So, they had packed up all their stuff—snacks and drinks and towels in their bags, swim clothes under their shorts, and off they went. Getting to the quarry was never a problem, getting to the other side was another matter. Pushing a bike for almost forty minutes through the woods was miserable during any time of the year, let alone the summer, but the trip was always worth it. The water was clear in some parts, and bright blue in others, and so cool to the touch that Will couldn’t imagine a single thing more refreshing even if he tried.

Like every other time, it was a ruckus of screaming and shouting and clothes being thrown this way and that as the boys plunged into the depths, only that summer, Will also plunged headfirst into his sexuality. It didn’t creep up on him gradually like it had with Dustin, who started noticing girls in third grade, or Lucas, or sprung up like a weed the summer prior. Will had remained the same for several years; smaller than all of his friends, and thin and wispy in a way his mother liked to call “bird-boned.” He’d always hated it until _that_ moment. That moment when Mike scooped him up in his arms like he weighed nothing so that Will could climb onto his shoulders for a game of chicken.

And for the first time, Will felt extremely _alive_. It lasted all of five seconds, but it was a litany of skin on skin on skin on skin, where Will’s hands had grazed Mike’s shoulders, his chest, his back. His veins had been thrumming with something akin to electricity, and there was this big ball of _something_ directly beneath his ribcage that made him simultaneously want to scream and want to run five miles as fast as he could. Then, Mike’s hands, bigger than his, so much bigger than his, cradled his knees as he straddled his shoulders, and Will had to check twice to make sure he wasn’t actually screaming, the feeling inside of him growing so strong it bordered on panic.

They lost the game of chicken, and every game after that, because after Will became _alive_ , it turned out his eyes opened too. And holy shit, what do you do when you realize that your best friend is prettier than any girl you’ve ever seen? When it’s wet, Mike’s carefully cut hair curls up in a mixture of ringlets and waves, blacker than the night sky, blacker than ink, blacker than infinity. And in the summer sun, he freckles heavily along the tops of his cheeks and bridge of his nose and along his shoulders and collarbones. Will felt like he had been blind his whole life and been granted the gift of vision by a higher power.

After a while, Will chose to sit out. He gave the excuse that he was that he was getting tired, which went unquestioned as he was undoubtedly the weakest swimmer there, but really, he just needed a moment to evaluate his life. He side-eyed Lucas, who was busy dunking Dustin under the water, and noticed that his arms were getting more defined than they used to be; stronger, more masculine. _Nicer._ Mike’s weren’t like that. Mike was all gangly limbs and broad smiles and slightly crooked teeth; all the markings of a boy on the verge of becoming a man. Will stressfully pushed his hair back from his face, because _oh my God,_ what is happening? And he nearly squealed when something cold touched his back.

Mike laughed from behind him.

“It’s just me, Will. You’re burning.”

Sunscreen. It was sunscreen.

Mike was rubbing sunscreen onto his back. And shoulders. And…neck. And face. Red face. Face that was definitely not red from sunburn, not with Mike this close, not after the epiphany that Will thinks his best _guy_ friend is the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

“There. Better.”

And Mike grinned in a way that made Will grin too, despite the ball of _something_ in his chest, and despite the panic.

Then, Mike was scooping him up in his arms again and tossing him back into the water.

“Byers incoming!” he hollered, Will screaming the whole way.

* * *

“How was your day?” Jonathan asked from the stove. It must have been his turn to make dinner. Will didn’t know. Will didn’t care. Will was freaking the hell out.

“Fine!” he yelps before scurrying off to his room, leaving his brother staring after him.

“Okay, then.”


End file.
